


Touch

by thundercracer



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Freezerburn - Freeform, Freezerburn Week 2018, its pretty short so its just a small drabble, just some hand holding analysis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 06:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16969311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thundercracer/pseuds/thundercracer
Summary: Freezerburn Week 2018 Day 2: Holding HandsJust a look into Weiss and Yang holding hands.





	Touch

Weiss was very unused to physical contact. Even less used to physical forms of affection. She was actually rather lost on most forms of affection… Always had been, really. 

 

So, when she and Yang started dating, the sudden influx of attention from her girlfriend was almost overwhelming. The two of them had very different upbringings and very different opinions on how one displays their fondness to a person. Weiss understood that, in this department, she had no idea what she was doing. No Idea what she’d been missing out on for years. 

 

She discussed this with Yang, certainly. And, while her brawler teammate understood and respected Weiss’s boundaries, she tended to fall back into habit regularly. She didn’t know how to breach Weiss’s comfort zones and get the smaller girl to open up in any way other than hugs and clasped hands. She also never really dealt with people like Weiss before meeting the girl.

 

Yang was always aware of how closed off Weiss was from the rest of them. From people in general. There was no reason to let anyone in, especially if they were bound to simply hurt you once they were there. Hold little to no expectations from people and you’ll never be disappointed. That was the kind of environment Weiss was reared in. That was the kind of world she’d become so used to and why she’d treated her current friends as poorly as she had. 

 

While Yang fiercely disagreed with and hated this part of her girlfriend’s life and upbringing, there was little she could actually do about it. Other than getting her to slowly get used to her physical touches. To show her what love was like. To cherish her and adore her. 

 

And by the gods would Yang Xiao Long love Weiss Schnee. She would show her how wonderful she was and how kind and beloved she was. She would shoo her insecurities and self doubt just like she knew Weiss would for her. Yang would whisper her tacky poetry and love songs to her girlfriend after a rough day, knowing it would just make her smile. 

 

She would rest her head against the smaller girl’s shoulder; something that was certainly amusing to witness. Yang would pepper Weiss’s delicate hands with kisses, knowing that she was in no way prepared for her cheeks to be assaulted with them quite yet. Though, Weiss would always cut her off once Yang started trying for her wrists… they were sensitive, apparently. Even more so, Yang almost always made a point to hold Weiss’s hand. 

 

Just like that time in her mother’s camp, where Weiss reached out to her. To stabilize her. To keep her grounded. To keep her there, with Weiss. To let her know that she didn’t need to be quite so upset. 

 

Whenever Yang’s unbearable anger would rear its head and she feared she would lose her temper… Weiss’s smaller, more delicate hand would appear in hers. Giving a gentle squeeze of reassurance. Letting her know she was there… and that it was okay for Yang to not use her anger as a defense mechanism anymore. That it was unnecessary. 

 

Whenever Weiss felt small and unimportant, feeling the weight of her upbringing on her shoulders and the expectations of the entire world casting its shadow on her, Yang would be there. Interlacing their fingers, rubbing Weiss’s palm with her thumb, trailing gentle circles. Circles were slowly becoming her life line. Yang being her rock that she never knew she could be allowed to have. 

 

While Weiss had been much more open with the group, smiling a bit more freely, she was still… reserved. She certainly wasn’t that Ice Queen they’d all originally met those first few weeks at Beacon. No longer the spoiled, snotty rich girl she’d pretended to be. Kindness and warmth that had been hidden, tucked away, were allowed to come to light. She’d initiated that hug with her upon the two of them being reunited, after all. Dropping her weapon, her knight, and her defenses, just to throw herself into Yang’s arms. 

 

A lot could be told about each girl’s hands alone. 

 

Yang’s hands were rough; calloused and big. She’d always had working hands, so said her father. She spent her childhood roughing it up with the neighborhood kids, throwing dirt just as often as she threw punches. But they were warm… and enveloping. They were sturdy and they felt like home. 

 

Weiss had such a big personality, but her hands were so small. Her heart so warm but her fingers so chilled. Yang took it upon herself to clasp her girlfriend’s hands in hers and breathe on them obnoxiously in order to warm them up. Whether it worked or not was lost on her as whatever annoyance her girlfriend feigned was overcome by laughter at Yang’s antics.

 

Yang was aware that Weiss always situated herself to Yang’s left. While she had the prosthetic and it helped tremendously, Weiss knew that Yang couldn’t feel her if she were to hold her right “hand”. So she stayed to the left, ensuring she’d always be there when Yang needed. And Yang appreciated that. Whenever she felt her hand shaking, PTSD flaring through her senses, it was dulled by the sudden feeling of another hand stabilizing her own. 

 

Yang didn’t know how long it would take to get Weiss used to the idea of kissing or anything like that. But that wasn’t important, really. Yang felt she could settle with hand holding forever, if that was all Weiss was willing to give her. If that was all Weiss could ever offer to give her, that would be okay. 

 

Though, based on several conversations, Yang knew this was only the first step. Weiss needed time and needed to be shown what positive attention was. What affection felt like, after being neglected for as long as she apparently had been. But, for now, Yang was satisfied with laced fingertips and featherlight brushing of their hands against each other. 

 

She would kiss her hands and trail shapes across the palms of Weiss’ hands and she could be content - oh would she be content - for the rest of her life. 


End file.
